


Back to the Front (written for Make The Yuletide Gay 2008)

by bellamyrose



Category: Popslash
Genre: Gender or Sex Swap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:13:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamyrose/pseuds/bellamyrose





	Back to the Front (written for Make The Yuletide Gay 2008)

This was written for [](http://phaballa.livejournal.com/profile)[**phaballa**](http://phaballa.livejournal.com/)   for Make the Yuletide Gay 2008. Many thanks to [](http://ravenbat.livejournal.com/profile)[**ravenbat**](http://ravenbat.livejournal.com/)  , [](http://poetrychik.livejournal.com/profile)[**poetrychik**](http://poetrychik.livejournal.com/)  , [](http://call-me-loca.livejournal.com/profile)[**call_me_loca**](http://call-me-loca.livejournal.com/)  , [](http://otherdeb.livejournal.com/profile)[**otherdeb**](http://otherdeb.livejournal.com/)  , [](http://linear-flower.livejournal.com/profile)[**linear_flower**](http://linear-flower.livejournal.com/)  , and [](http://raynedanser.livejournal.com/profile)[**raynedanser**](http://raynedanser.livejournal.com/)  for hand-holding, beta duties, poking and prodding and cheerleading. You all rock my socks and I appreciate your help so much.  *hugs you all*  
  
Lance stood by the window looking out over the street, JC laying heavily on his mind and in his bed. The bedroom was lit dimly, soft lamplight and moon glow shining into the room. Strong winds blew rain against the glass, droplets sparkling and reminding him of the sequins that adorned their costumes. He lowered the curtain and turned around, bracing his back against the wall and looked toward the bed. JC was still as beautiful as ever, but things were different now, and not only in the obvious ways. They'd both grown up a lot since they'd started dating, and now Lance was more than a little frustrated with the way things were going.  
  
When JC had changed the first time, Lance had woken up to feel breasts pressed against his back instead of the muscular chest he knew he had gone to sleep with. He'd turned over in the bed and had been shocked at the sight of the girl lying curled up on JC's side of the bed. Lance noticed the most obvious differences first; the curve of breast just visible above the top of the sheet, the longer hair that curled softly around her shoulders, the smaller build and musculature. He had grinned slightly at the changes that weren't so different after all. The cheekbones were still JC's and were still as sharp as ever, her face was slightly narrower, and her jawline was now smoother, unadorned by the stubble JC normally had at this time of the morning. She even slept in the same position as JC, one hand curled into a fist and tucked underneath her chin on the pillow.  
  
Lance sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. He slid down the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest, propping his arms across them and resting his chin on his arms. He looked over at JC resting comfortably on the bed and sighed again. Things were so different now than they used to be. He missed the old JC, the one who'd lived for the music and the screams of the fans. He was different now, had been concentrating more on what he thought people wanted to see from him, instead of what he wanted and could give them. The music had taken a back seat to the hosting and the appearances that the higher ups wanted to see, instead of the music and videos that the fans were waiting impatiently for. Lance closed his eyes and thought back to last year, back when things between them were still going good.  
  
With the other obvious changes, Lance had assumed correctly that JC would have other girl parts as well. Women were just fine to hang out with, okay to talk to, and cool to get drunk with, but when it came down who he'd prefer in his bed, Lance didn't want to see a woman. He'd been pretending and hiding for far too long, and now that the guys knew his preferences, he wasn't going back to women. With a shaky hand, he'd reached over and shaken JC a few times, Lance had realized that another of the less obvious things about JC hadn't changed. He was still a pain in the ass to wake up in the mornings. He'd gotten up and pulled on his pants, looking down at JC who was still sleeping soundly. Breakfast first, he'd decided. He could think about what the plan would be and who he'd need to call later. Much, much later.  
  
The second time JC had changed, Lance had been a little more prepared. Instead of freaking out and leaving everything for later, he'd called Johnny first, calmly explaining that JC was sick and checking that any appearances could be rescheduled. He'd kept some of the clothes that JC had ordered from Hot Topic the first time in the guest room, and had made sure to keep ladies shaving supplies and body lotions in supply as well. They hadn't been able to find an explanation for why it had happened the first time, and didn't find anything the second either. The stress level had been the same both before the change and after, and there hadn't been any strange packages or envelopes that might have been cursed. Whatever had caused this could be anything from Pluto being lined up with the moon on Earth or Mercury being in it's thousandth orbit around the sun. There was no way to tell really, and even if they had found a reason, they probably wouldn't have been able to reverse it anyway. JC had changed back to himself after a few days the first time, so Lance had just decided to wait it out.  
  
When JC was still female after three weeks, Lance had started to get cranky. He was horny and wanted his boyfriend back in his bed for something other than sleep. JC had been feeling the strain as well, and the third time he'd tried to rub his icky girl parts on Lance's leg while they were sleeping, Lance had decided that something had to be done. They'd talked it over and decided that if things were still the same the next day, they'd find someone to have a threesome with, someone that they could both have a good time with. They'd narrowed it down to a list of a few trusted people that night and had planned to start making calls the next day. JC had turned back into himself the next morning.  
  
Raising his head to look over at the bed, Lance rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I can't do this anymore." he said softly, "The music has to be first in your life". JC still slept on, oblivious to the conflict Lance was going through. He knew logically that he wasn't the reason the music had taken a back seat in JC's life, but he hoped that with him out of the picture, JC could get it back to one of the top spots. He got up and pulled out his suitcase, determined to give JC the space he needed to find the music again. Even if it wasn't singing his own songs, JC needed to be producing or writing or something for someone else. Neatly folding some shirts, a couple of pairs of slack and jeans and taking his socks and underwear from the drawer, Lance got everything ready to go. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen from his laptop case and sat down on the end of the bed to write JC a letter.  
  
JC,  
As much as I love you and think we could be so great together, this is not working out for me anymore.  
You've given up one of the most important things in your life and I'm not sure I like the new and so-called  
improved version of you. You've left the music behind, the rhythm that fed your soul, and that was a big  
part of what I fell in love with when I first started noticing you as more than a band mate. You didn't care  
how silly you sounded in interviews, if they asked about the music you always told them. When you talked,  
they listened. Even if they didn't have a clue about what you were saying, they could tell you were passionate  
about it, could tell that the music was a big part of your life.  
  
You're not the man I fell in love with anymore, and though I'm doing this right now, it's not because you're a  
female every now and then. You've changed a lot recently, and you're just letting them drag you around by  
the balls, doing stupid shit like that America's Best Dance Crew, and not performing. The JC I love would not  
have let anyone stand in the way of what he wanted to do. Even Britney has done more with her music  
recently than you have since Schizophrenic. She's getting her new stuff out there and being heard. It's not fair  
to you, it's not fair to your fans, and it's not fair to me. I didn't agree to go out with you so you could become  
a recluse. I fell in love with the JC who used to sing at the drop of a hat, who could belt out some of the  
sappiest lyrics ever written with a smile on his face. Where did that JC go? Where is he hiding?  
  
I do love you, JC and I always will, but I have to go now. Hopefully once I'm gone, you'll be able to get the music  
back. Take care of yourself and let me know how you're doing occasionally. If you don't want to talk to me, pass a  
message on to Joey or Chris. They'll probably hate me for this, but they'll still let me know how you are.  
  
Love,  
Lance  
  
Lance signed his name with a flourish and quietly tore the two sheets of paper he'd used out of his notebook. He folded the pages together into thirds and scrawled JC's name on the outer flap. Rising to his feet, he stood and walked over to the nightstand, propping the letter against the base of the lamp. A rustle of the cover let him know that JC was turning over. He silently prayed that JC wasn't waking up; he wanted to get out of here and leave the note to explain his actions.  
  
"What are you doing?" JC asked quietly, sitting up in the bed and blinking sleepily. She kept the comforter pulled in tightly around her breasts, as if trying to protect herself. "What time iz'it?"  
  
"Go back to sleep, C." Lance answered, regret at being caught tinging his words. "It's a little after 3 and way too early for you to be up."  
  
"Don't do this, Lance," JC whispered. "don't leave without us talking about this."  
  
Lance sighed again, before turning his head to look at JC. Her light blue eyes seemed to see inside Lance, knowing there was a problem though not what it was, but JC had known him long enough to know that something was wrong. He'd forgotten that JC knew him as well as he knew JC. He picked up the letter he had written and handed it over to JC before standing silently by the side of the bed.  
  
"That will tell you most of it." He walked back over to the wall by the window and resumed his seat on the floor, looking over at the bed. "We can talk again after you're done."  
  
JC looked down at the letter in her hand and Lance could see her fingers shaking as she unfolded the pages. She pulled the comforter up tighter around her body and tucked it underneath her arms, before looking down at the pages again. Lance watched as she started reading the hand-written lines, and from the expression on her face, Lance could almost exactly judge when she had read each part.  
  
JC looked up from the pages and over at Lance, somewhat hidden in the shadow of the room. He could see the despair in her eyes, and hoped that she'd have a solution for this. He really didn't want things to end this way, but honestly couldn't think of another way. She dropped her hands to her lap, and the comforter fell from her upper body, exposing the old, thin tee shirt she wore. She folded the letter back up and leaned over to place it back on the nightstand.   
  
"I," She paused before speaking again, as if composing her thoughts. "I really don't know where I went, Lance. One minute things were fine and I was riding on the high that Schizophrenic gave me and the next one, it's like I stopped existing. No one would let me get a word in about the type of music that I wanted to put out, and those who did listen to my demo tracks didn't seem at all interested in getting them out there for anyone to hear. I guess I just gave up on it. I was getting to the point that I just didn't care anymore. I didn't care if people didn't want to hear me, I wanted to do it anyway. Then when the radio interviews and first listen parties didn't do as well as I though they would, I guess I just gave up."  
  
"You can't do that though, JC." Lance stood, moving closer to the bed to sit down on the edge. He covered JC's hand with his own, and tangled their fingers together as he always had when things were tough. "You can't let them beat you. You have to show them that you can do this. You can't let them bring you down. It's not like you make music for the ratings anyway. You sing, play and produce for yourself, like it should be. Don't let them take the one thing you love more than anything away from you." "  
  
"What if they hate it, Lance? What if they hate me?" JC asked, a slight quiver in his voice.  
  
"Did the fans who came to see you and hear the new stuff act as if they hated you? Did they seem to hate the music? I don't think they did, JC." Lance soothed with his voice while tightening his fingers on JC's hand. "You have people out there who want to have an actual copy of your music and would love to see you tour again. These songs are great, JC. They touch people in ways I can only imagine. Don't let the haters keep you from sharing that with those who want to hear it. You've never listened to them before, and now isn't the time to start."  
  
JC looked up and met Lance's eyes. "You're right, baby. You always are. My fans deserve me, the real me, and as soon as I'm myself again, I'm going to give it to them." She smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners and white teeth glowing in the dim lighting of the room. "It's time to show them all who JC Chasez really is!"


End file.
